


Responsibility

by MiriamKenneath



Category: Original Work
Genre: Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, Femdom, Vagina Dentata
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-03 22:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21187337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiriamKenneath/pseuds/MiriamKenneath
Summary: The son was responsible for caring for the mother – or the stepmother in Arabelle’s case – after the death of the father. That was the expectation, and Colin was nothing if not the epitome of the dutiful son.





	Responsibility

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StormyDaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormyDaze/gifts).

Colin was miserable. He was cute when he was miserable.

‘It’s just the two of us now, you know?’ Arabelle dabbed delicately at her lashes with a black-lace handkerchief. She wasn’t crying actual tears, but no one needed to know that. ‘You’ll take care of me in your father’s place, Colin, won’t you?’

The son was responsible for caring for the mother – or the stepmother in Arabelle’s case – after the death of the father. That was the expectation, and Colin was nothing if not the epitome of the dutiful son.

Even if that expectation was a frightfully heavy burden to be placing upon a fifteen-year-old’s narrow shoulders.

‘Of course I’ll take care of you, Mother. You don’t have to worry – I promise,’ said Colin.

He wasn’t just cute when he was miserable; he was downright _yummy_ in his best suit. That gave Arabelle an idea.

‘The funeral has been most taxing. I do believe I shall retire to my chambers. Colin, please attend me.’ This was meant as a command, not a request. Arabelle dropped her handkerchief into the rubbish bin as she headed upstairs to her – _her_, not her and her husband’s anymore – bedroom. She did not look behind her to see if Colin was following.

‘Yes, Mother.’ Colin was indeed following. Her stepson was so obedient and oh so proper!

Arabelle shimmied out of her mourning dress and sat down on the edge of the bed. She was not wearing underclothes. Colin came into the bedroom but loitered close to the door, uncertain and uncomfortable, trying to avoid looking at her bare breasts.

‘I am in need of your mouth, Colin,’ said Arabelle.

‘W-what – ?’ he stammered.

‘I require relief before I sleep. Now that your father is gone, the responsibility falls to you.’ Arabelle opened her legs so that her clitoris peeked out from the tangle of dark hair surrounding it. She was already wet and swollen with needful anticipation. She slicked herself in her own fluids with the tip of one forefinger and retracted the clitoral hood to expose the glans for Colin to see. ‘Put your mouth on me. Here.’

‘B-but – ’

‘Don’t make me repeat myself.’

Colin was a dutiful son. He got down onto his knees at Arabelle’s feet, heedless of how his good suit trousers were getting scuffed on the floor, took a deep, shuddery breath, and wrapped his lips around the rosy tip of Arabelle’s clitoris. He began suckling her like a teat.

‘Mhmm…harder.’

Colin’s reply was muffled by her flesh, but he leant further forward into her and obeyed.

‘Use your tongue, too. Like – no, no, not like that – yes, in circles – good – ’

Arabelle rocked her hips back and forth as the pleasure began to intensify. Colin was working her furiously, sucking and licking, licking and sucking, snuffling, his nose buried in her pubic hair, grunting and moaning, wordless, so that she felt the sounds he was making more than she heard him. She looked down: his eyes were closed, and his cheeks were flushed. He was drooling, and his hairless, boyish chin was shiny with his own saliva. Between his legs, though, his trousers were bulging – impressive indeed that he was aroused purely from pleasuring her –

She came, hot and wild, screaming through clenched teeth. ‘Don’t…stop…!’

He sucked and licked her all the harder, and as he did, he slid one hand down towards his burgeoning erection –

‘Did I give you permission to touch yourself?’ snapped Arabelle as she slapped him upside the head.

Colin flinched, more shocked than hurt at being struck, and snatched his hand away from himself guiltily. His mouth on her faltered.

‘Did I give you permission to stop?’

‘No, Mother.’ This time, she did not need to apply any corrective discipline. Colin resumed his attentions without further prompting, cleaning her labia of her spend. His tongue swiped lower, laving the tiny aperture of her urethra, and then lower still, to caress and probe the entrance to her vagina – the tip of his tongue penetrated her –

She bit him with her nether-mouth. _Viciously._ A deep puncture wound through tough, squirmy muscle. He lurched backward and stumbled onto his feet. He swiped his mouth with the palm of one hand, saw the blood. ‘W-what – what did you – ?’ he began.

‘Did I give you permission to enter me with your tongue?’

‘N-no, Mother.’ Colin was flushed bright red – humiliation and arousal both. He gulped, choked, covered his mouth. ‘Please forgive me.’

Arabelle closed her legs. She was well satisfied. ‘Oh very well. I should be lenient, since it was your first time. Next time, however, should you act without my permission…’ The implied threat hung in the air between them.

‘I’ll take care of you; I promise. I won’t disobey you.’ Colin stanched the flow of blood with his sleeve. It would ruin the suit, but fortunately tongues healed quickly.

Whereas cocks, particularly when attached to annoying, unsuspecting, _disposable_ husbands and injected with her venom…

Arabelle smiled. ‘You may leave now, my son. I need my rest. I will call when I need you again.’

‘Yes, Mother.’


End file.
